


I'm not a deity but I can be your guardian

by asanoya



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, Ghosts, M/M, death will be talked about but no characters will die in the story, will add characters as they appear
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-25
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 23:51:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3228176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asanoya/pseuds/asanoya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Asahi can speak to the dead and Nishinoya is looking for his way home</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is the first fic i've really ever posted anywhere! i'm working on some other ideas but i was afraid that if i never posted anything i never will... i hope to finish this up quickly though! i hope everyone likes it... comments are appreciated!!

The house is pitch dark and no louder than a whisper. Small hands push open a bedroom door. A young boy with large but sleepy eyes and messy, unkempt hair plods out of his room and down the stairs to get a glass of water from the kitchen. Normally the darkness would scare the boy, but in his half-asleep state he is impervious to his anxieties. He licks his cracked lips, swallows to rid himself of the dryness in his throat. Fingers drag across the wall until they catch on the kitchen’s light switch, and his eyes squint as they adjust to the now illuminated room. _Water_ , he thinks simply, as he picks up a glass sitting on the counter, and fills it with water from the sink. He is tall for his age, but he still stands on the tips of his socked toes.

The lights flicker, and he startles, nearly letting the glass slip out of his fingers. There wasn’t a storm outside. Maybe the light was broken? But it lit the room just as much as it did before. He brings the glass to his lips, and takes a long sip. He is far too tired to care about the lights, and he could tell his mom about it in the morning.

The sudden sound of a cabinet slamming is enough to make him jump and drop his glass. Water spills across the floor tiles, and a crack forms in the plastic where it hit the ground. His eyes scan the kitchen. From behind him, a drawer is suddenly shoved closed, its contents rattling against each other. The boy cries out in surprise and fear. One by one, the drawers and cabinets open and shut around him, quicker and louder and he puts his hands over his ears, trying to drown out the deafening, impossible sounds. The lights continue turning on and off, and he squeezes his eyes shut. He doesn’t try to fight the tears that leak out of his eyes and down his red cheeks. There is no sign of the chaos around him stopping. Doors slam quicker and the noise around him grows. Sobs escape his lips, and soon he is on the floor, curled up and shaking. Plates and bowls and cups knock and clatter against each other with each new crash. His sobs quickly become anguished cries and screams, for his parents, for his brother, for anyone to save him and make this stop.

“Asahi!” the familiar sound of his mother’s voice makes the boy quiet down and open his eyes. The kitchen was once again still and silent. The kitchen light remained on. Everything in the kitchen was in its place. “What is all of the racket about? It is the middle of the night!”

He sniffles and rubs his eyes, picking himself off of the floor. “Th-there was… the lights… the-“

“What are you screaming about, you brat?” his older brother moans, suddenly in the kitchen. His father was there as well, staring at him disapprovingly.

He hiccups, trying to find the words to explain. He a young child with a small vocabulary, but how could anyone of any age accurately explain an occurrence like this without sounding like a fool?

“Well?” his father inquires, “I have to be up in a few hours, son. I do not have all night.”

The boy nods, slowly, and finally finds the courage to speak. “Th-the cabinets kept s-slamming… and the drawers… and the lights w-were flickering… I was scared…” His eyes were watering again.

“Oh, Asahi, don’t you have the biggest imagination! Let’s get you changed and back to bed, okay?” his mother coaxes.

He hesitates for a moment, about to ask what she meant by changed, when he looks down at himself. Not only were his clothes soaked from the water he spilled, but a large yellow stain had formed in the crotch on his pants, soaking down his legs and into his socks. Had he really peed himself in fear? He starts to sob again, out of discomfort and embarrassment. His brother gives an over-dramatic groan before turning to go back to bed. His father shakes his head before doing the same.

“Come on, sweetie.” His mother picks him up lightly, and he wraps his arms around her neck, crying against her shoulder. She rubs gentle circles into his back. “It was just a bad dream, okay?”

The boy lifts his head, about to deny that it was a dream, when he sees a figure standing in the kitchen. Staring right back at him. His mother turns off the lights, and they disappear into the darkness.

He clings to his mother a little tighter.

°°°

No experience that Asahi has in the future is ever quite as frightening as that night, when he was only five years old. But it would be incorrect to say that it was the only experience of that type that he ever had. Sometimes his door would creep closed on its own, or he would find his shoe laces tied and knotted together, or a cup would suddenly be sitting on the other side of his desk. His older brother was known for playing cruel jokes on him, but he would never deny that a prank was of his own doing.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Asahi. You are probably just seeing things,” he would say, after the lights in Asahi’s room flickered a few times.

Sometimes, the bathroom door would jam, and it would take an hour for him to free himself. Sometimes his favorite shirt would go missing, only to turn up later exactly where he had remembered leaving it. Sometimes he would see the strange figure from that night in the corner of his eye.

Asahi would try to explain this phenomenon to his parents, but they would only respond with how he must have such an overactive imagination, or that perhaps he should be taken to see a therapist if he was really seeing things like this. But Asahi wasn’t making this up. It happened too often for him to possibly be mistaken. There was just no way. For some reason, whatever was doing this was solely targeting him, and him alone. He wanted it to stop, but even thinking about this frightened him to no end. He would be up all night, unable to sleep, shivering in the darkness as he waited for something to happen. He elected to ignore it as best as someone as anxious as him could.

°°°

Asahi’s brother was eight years older than him. “You weren’t meant to be born, you know. You were just an accident that Mom and Dad decided to keep out of pity,” he would say, even though when Asahi questioned his parents about it, they would intensely deny it.

Still, it got to him. He got to him. He would always find the perfect words to hurt him. He couldn’t say that he was unhappy when it was time for his brother to move off to college. Not yet, anyway.

The goodbyes still ended up being tearful, with hugs going all around. “I will miss you, big brother,” Asahi mumbles, blinking away tears as he stares at his feet.

His brother ruffles his hair. “I’ll miss you too, Asahi. You really need to buck up, though. You can’t be a doormat forever. And stop making up stuff about the house. Your big brother can’t protect you from the big spooky ghosts anymore, okay?”

He sniffs and nods, and soon his brother is gone, off to become an adult. Asahi is left with a large mix of emotions. Sorrow... humiliation... resentment... relief... the list goes on. In a way, a weight has been lifted off of his small shoulders. No longer is he forced into the shadow of someone so much stronger, smarter, bigger, and better than him. The weight, however, is only one of many, many more.

His parents lead him inside the house, which feels quieter, somehow. Larger. Less claustrophobic.

It doesn’t last, though. Asahi is already breaking the silence with his screams by the time he gets to his bedroom and sees that figure, the one that has been haunting him for years, only feet away from him, relaxing on his bed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for the comments and kudos! i'm going to try my best to update this as often as possible, even though i'm swamped with school!

The ghost sits up, trying to shush the screaming child. “Shut up, you idiot! I just want to talk to you!” Asahi couldn’t hear him, though. In front of him was a boy, maybe thirteen or fourteen years old, with large, amber eyes, and spiked dark hair, wearing a black school uniform. A few pieces of hair in the middle of his forehead were bleached. An easy smile plastered on his face. But that wasn’t what Asahi was looking at. The boy seemed to shimmer, as if he had a faint but bright outline around him. He didn’t look entirely opaque, either.

He looked like a ghost.

Asahi continues to shriek in fear, backing out of his room, away from the strange boy. Rushing footsteps up the stairs and shouts of “Asahi, are you alright?” can be heard, coming closer to the room. The boy on the bed groans, before dematerializing in front of his eyes.

Asahi’s heart feels like it is about to burst out of his chest. He falls to his knees, arms wrapped around him as he shakes. His parents are soon kneeling next to him, trying to shake him from his stupor. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

“G-g-ghost!!!” He sputters out. His parents share a look.

“Asahi, your brother was right. You really need to let go of this fantasy,” his dad tries to reason.

“N-no! He was real! I s-saw him on my bed!” He points a shaky finger towards his room. “He d-d-disappeared though!”

“We are serious, Asahi. If you can’t get over this, there are going to be consequences.” His father’s face is grim. His mother’s is more apologetic, but it is clear that she agrees.

“S-sorry, father.” What was he supposed to do? His brother would not believe him, and his parents would not believe him, so who could he possibly go to about this? He didn’t know anything about ghosts, and frankly he didn’t want to. “I won’t… it w-won’t happen again, I promise.”

“That’s a good boy. Run along now.” Asahi’s dad pats his shoulder before standing and descending the stairs once again. His mom lingers a moment longer.

“You really… cannot be doing this anymore, Asahi. We are extremely worried about you. If you are having any problems, or want to talk to us about something, you can just do that without making up these ridiculous stories. It is alright.”

Asahi desperately wants to tell her that he is not making anything up, he swears it, but he doesn’t want to make this situation any more awful than it already is. He is absolutely terrified, but things can _always_ get worse. “I’m sorry, Mom…”

“It is alright, dear. Just try to calm down. Dinner will be in a few hours.” She gives him a little hug before taking her leave as well.

Asahi finally stands up, wiping his face with the collar of his shirt. It was one thing when he never directly had to face this ghost. He didn’t even know that it was capable of communication. But now it wanted to talk to him? The thought made him never want to go back into his room again, even though he knew that he had seen the figure outside of it. Really, it could try to contact him anywhere in the house. Probably. He couldn’t really say anything for certain.

Maybe… he really was making all of this up, though. After all, Asahi had never heard of someone seeing a ghost before. He was an incredibly average child, maybe even a little less than that, so why would he, of all people, be able to see something like a ghost? It was preposterous. His parents might just be right about all of this. This was nothing but his imagination and fears running on the loose. 

With that, Asahi, marches into his room, mind set on reading a story book to get his mind off of things. He crouches down at his bookshelf, trying to choose something he had not already read a dozen times before. Once he makes his decision, he turns around, and nearly jumps out of his own skin.

The ghost is on his bed again. When had that happened? “A-sa-hi, is that your name? My name is Nishinoya Y-” Asahi bites down on his lip, hard, to muffle his scream. He darts back out of his room and into the bathroom. It takes all of his willpower not to slam the door shut when he closes it. He sinks down to the floor, trembling and trying not to hyperventilate. No, the ghost was definitely, absolutely real.

This would be so much harder than anything Asahi had ever done before.

°°°

The ghost is gone, and doesn’t appear again, when Asahi finally makes his way back to his room after dinner. Doors aren’t shut and things aren’t misplaced. Not for a few months, at least.

A season or so later, Asahi is doing his homework on the floor of his room. He has all but pushed the previous supernatural events to the very back of his mind. He leaves for a moment, to use the restroom. When he comes back, his homework is nowhere to be found.

“What… where…” he begins to dig through his things, until he realizes his closet, which was once ajar, is now shut. He hesitantly reaches to open it, his hidden memories slowly flowing back into his conscience. The door opens before his fingers are around the handle, and he is left staring at the translucent boy, his throat caught in a silent scream.

The ghost is holding out Asahi’s homework, for him to take. Asahi is frozen in place.

“What, you were looking for this, weren’t you?” He points at once of the pages. “You screwed up this problem here.”

Asahi bolts, and curls up on the bathroom rug.

°°°

The ghost is relentless. Sometimes his next appearance is half a year later, but sometimes it is only a few weeks later. Sometimes he doesn’t appear, and just goes back to doing his small hauntings, which leaves Asahi on edge. Sometimes he can forget about the specter for long periods of time, but sometimes he doesn’t sleep for weeks, so afraid that he will do something to him if he allows himself to suffer through fitful nightmares.

It is excruciatingly difficult for Asahi to pretend that he is alright. He can chalk up his sleepless nights to other sources of anxiety, of which he has plenty, but it is much more difficult to explain away his sudden startled screams. He is really, really getting fed up with this.

Asahi is in his first year of high school. The ghost has been popping up almost every week now. One day, sore and tired from a rough afternoon of volleyball practice, he collapses onto his bed, unaware of the presence next to him.

“Do you mind? I was napping here. How rude of you, Asahi-san!”

This time, Asahi doesn’t scream, despite being inches away from the boy. He has had enough of this. _Inhale._ He sits up, slowly. _Exhale._

“Wh-what do you want? No, w-wait, I really… don’t care. I just want you to leave me alone. Go h-haunt someone else. I don’t want you in my room, I don’t want you to t-talk to me, I don’t want you to mess with my stuff. Why w-won’t you leave me be?” He can’t cut the stutter out of his speech, not yet, but he has never been able to speak like this to the ghost before. Maybe it is the mix of stress, tiredness, and just plain being completely done with this situation. His jaw is set, and there is anger in his eyes.

The ghost, on the other hand, no longer wears his easy smile. Instead, he looks a strange a mix of surprised, hurt, and… amused? He shrugs his shoulders. “Fine, Asahi-san, I will leave you alone.”

“Thanks. Bye.” Impatience and exasperation color Asahi’s features. Finally, he could be done with this.

“See you.” The ghost gives him one last look, but Asahi doesn’t react. With another shrug of his shoulders, he fades away.

Asahi flops onto his stomach and screams into his pillow, fear finally overwhelming him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally getting to the good stuff :3c

The ghost doesn’t come back.

It doesn’t feel out of the ordinary, at first. He was always prone to coming and going, not showing up for long stretches of time. But by the time that Asahi is sixteen, it is almost unsettling. Was the ghost truly gone? Or was he just waiting for Asahi to let his guard down? He had never had friends over, for fear of the ghost tormenting whoever he had brought by, but he finally felt as if it might be safe to do so now. He was able to bring over his teammates, Sugawara and Sawamura, without any sort of problems. It was a huge relief.

But why did he feel like something was still wrong?

These high school years were so much better for his well-being, and not just because he finally had relatively close friends. His home was no longer a place of constant anxiety. He no longer had to lie to his parents all of the time. He could get a good night’s rest more often than not. Getting up the guts to tell the ghost off was the best thing that he had ever did.

He still thought about the ghost constantly, though. Who was he? Why was he in his home? Why was Asahi able to see him, and no one else? Why wasn’t Asahi able to see any other ghosts? Was he the only ghost? Where was he now, ever since Asahi had told him to go away?

Asahi needed to know. And the only way he was ever going to figure anything out was by asking the ghost himself.

It took him until his third year of high school to finally buck up.

What was it that the ghost had called himself? It had been so many years ago, but Asahi was sure that it started with a _ni_. Nishi, probably? That was common enough. He thought that the name was much longer, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember the rest.

His old bed sinks under his weight as he sits on top of it, cross-legged. He takes slow, deep breaths, trying to keep calm. He had been psyching himself up for this for weeks. He could do this. Plus, who knows if the ghost was actually still here? He might just seem like a fool, calling out a name that might not even belong to him. His parents were at work at the moment, so no one would be able to hear him otherwise, but self-consciousness twisted in his gut. Along with a few other things, namely dread and distress.

His hands rest on his knees, curling and uncurling into fists. He needed to get a hold of himself. As much of an annoyance as the ghost was, it wasn’t like he ever actually hurt him. Yet. He would be okay if anything happened. Most likely.

Another deep breath. He opens his mouth to speak, but the syllables get caught in his throat. No reason to get this worked up. It was only a completely unexplainable phenomenon that he was about to attempt to summon. No big deal.  
“N… ah… Nishi?” His voice is hardly a whisper, so he can’t say he is surprised when nothing happens. He takes one final deep breath, and speaks a little louder. “Nishi?”

He is about to chicken out and give up, putting away this plan for good, when a figure appears, standing in front of his bed.

He looks exactly the same as all of those years ago. A young kid, at least in middle school by the looks of his uniform. Grade 7 or 8, if he had to guess. Hair that looked like it needed massive amounts of hair gel to stick up that high. Striking eyes that seem to stare into his soul. They are narrowed, as if sizing Asahi up, which makes the color drain from his face.

“It’s Nishinoya. Nishinoya Yuu! Noya if you want, that’s what my friends used to call me. Never would have guessed that you would call me back, though. I thought I was going to have to wait until you graduated before I could come back here! Man, do you know how much it sucks to be stuck in limbo for so long? It really sucks, Asahi-san.” His hands are on his hips, and he talks in such a fast, but casual way, that Asahi could have thought that they were longtime friends, catching up after not keeping communication for a little while.

Asahi’s tongue felt thick in his mouth. He had forgotten how strange it was to see the ghost. The unnatural, eerie glow around his body, the way Asahi could see his bedroom door through the ghost’s form… He makes a strangled sound.

“Cat got your tongue again, huh? Not surprised. It must have taken a lot out of you just to say half my name! Should we play twenty questions to figure out why you brought me back here?”

Speaking still seemed to be impossible. What did Asahi have to lose at this point? He gives a single slow nod.

“Great! Hmm…” The ghost puts a hand to his chin in mock-thought. “Probably want to know why I was playing pranks on you all the time, right?”

Asahi nods.

“That one’s easy. I was bored, duh.” He grins.

Asahi makes a face of exasperation, his shoulders sagging. “You couldn’t have..,” he speaks without realizing, “…haunted someone else?”

The ghost takes it in stride, not bothering to react to Asahi’s sudden speech so as to not scare away his voice again. “Your brother never reacted to anything I did! And I don’t scare parents; they’re never any fun.”

“Another house…?”

“Can’t leave. I think we’re stuck in the building we died in? I can’t confirm that though! Seems like no one else has died in this house except for me.” He nods a few times, as if recalling past memories.

“Y-you died in here?”

“Yep, this very place! It was a long time ago, though! Tons of people have moved in and out before you guys came. Probably why no one ever told you. Do you want to know how I died?”

Asahi quickly shakes his head. This conversation was hard enough to stomach as it was.

“Maybe later, then!” He begins to pace around the room. “This place hasn’t changed at all. Hasn’t it been awhile since you told me to leave?”

“…Two years.”

“Jeez, you are so _boring_ , Asahi-san. That’s okay though, since you’re so much fun to mess with!”

Asahi looks down at his lap, flushing with embarrassment. “You… were scary. Are scary.”

“C’mon, you’re twice my size! How could someone like me scare someone like you?” There’s a hint of sarcasm in his words; he knows that size has nothing to do with this.

“You have been doing this to me since I was five years old… I was not so big then.”

“Okay, yeah, that was a dick move. I had no idea you were gonna piss your pants, though! None of the other kids _ever_ did that.”

Asahi’s face turns even redder, and he refuses to look up. His throat constricts as he remembers that horrible night.

There’s a long silence. The ghost stops pacing and fills quickly. “Didn’t think you could see me, either! Another thing that none of the other kids could do. I wasn’t expecting that at all. Can you see other ghosts?”

Asahi shakes his head. He was certain of this.

“Well! That’s weird. You’re weird, Asahi-san.”

“Sorry.”

The ghost sputters a laugh. “You don’t have to be sorry about that, dumbass! Now, did I answer all your questions, or what?”

There are thousands of things that Asahi wants to say and know, but his mind is still reeling over the few crumbs he has been thrown in the past few minutes. The ghost seems to pick up on that.

“Hahaha! I guess I did, didn’t I! Well, if you come up with anything else, you know how to get a hold of me! And remember, it’s Nishi _noya_. Don’t forget next time, Asahi-san!” He’s in Asahi’s face, pointing at him. His finger almost touches his nose, and Asahi jerks back.

The ghost gives another laugh. “So jumpy! Well, see you!” He pulls back, grins and waves, and is gone in an instant.

Asahi stays frozen in place for what feels like hours. His mind is going a million miles a minute, but all he can hear is white noise.

Asahi had a genuine conversation with an actual ghost.


	4. Chapter 4

It takes Asahi another week before he has the courage to summon the ghost again.

Nishinoya. That is what the ghost had called himself. He used to be a real, living person, who had lived in his home who knows how many years ago. He had died inside of it, and at a relatively young age, judging by how old his body looked. Asahi still didn’t want to know how he had died, though. It would have been incredibly easy to search his name up on the internet and find an article somewhere, but something about knowing once and for all that the ghost had truly been alive made him feel uneasy.

He makes sure his parents aren’t home again before settling on his bed. Nishinoya did not seem to be threatening at all. Aside from getting in Asahi’s face, he didn’t do anything to try to scare him.

Maybe Nishinoya was just lonely, and played pranks in an attempt to feel that a little less.

Even from the small clips of conversation they had had so far, it was easy to tell that Nishinoya was a talkative type. Not having anyone to talk to for potential decades seemed like a nightmare. For someone other than Asahi, at least. While Asahi greatly enjoyed the companionship of those in his volleyball club, he didn’t necessarily need them to feel contented. Being alone was satisfying enough.

Or so he tells himself. After all, if he was really happy with being by himself, why was he seeking out the ghost again? Surely he would not be causing himself needless anxiety for nothing.

“Nishinoya.” He pronounces each syllable delicately, trying the name out for the first time.

The ghost appears right about where he was last when he left; at the side of Asahi’s bed. “That was fast,” he says, lifting his arms in the air, stretching them out. “Did’ya remember some other stuff you wanted to ask me?”

This time, the shock only takes about a minute to wear off. Nishinoya waits patiently, his eyebrows lifted in question, his foot tapping in an uneven rhythm, but nothing more. 

Asahi swallows the lump in his throat before finally trying his voice. “I, ah… no.”

“Why’d you call me here, then?” His voice is pure curiosity, with no hint of irritation.

“Well, I… I mean. I guess I have a few… questions.” The living boy’s eyes flicker from the other boy to his lap.

“Then spit them out already! I’m not gonna get offended by anything, y’know.” He pauses, as if he was going to say something more, but stops himself.

“Alright…” Asahi forces himself to look up and maintain eye contact. Nishinoya’s eyes don’t seem to reflect anything, but instead contain pure, volatile energy shimmering within them. They are entrancing to watch. “They are not… it is not really a question. I am just… curious. About what it is like to be a ghost.”

“You mean how it all works and stuff?”

“Yes – I suppose.”

“Hmm… do you mind if I sit on your bed?”

“N-no.” Asahi shifts backward, until his spine touches the wall, to make room.

Nishinoya practically leaps onto the bed. It dips and creaks, as if he were a real person. Asahi raises his eyebrows, and he answers the unspoken question. “I can touch and manipulate anything that isn’t alive. If I use up some energy I can even mess with stuff I can’t reach. That’s how I could flicker your light switch without you seeing me!” He grins, proud that he was able to learn this ability. He doesn’t make a move to show it off again, though.

“Energy?”

“Can’t stay on this plane forever! Run out of energy and I gotta go back to limbo to recharge, which sucks. Nothing to do there but be a boring spirit. There’s other spirits there but they don’t talk to me. I like it here so much more!”

“Even if… no one talks to you here, either?”

“You’re talking to me, aren’t you, Asahi-san?” Another grin. It is obvious that that was not what Asahi meant, but he doesn’t press the subject further.

“But you can’t touch… things that are alive?”

“Nope! Fall right through them!” He extends an arm, silently asking Asahi to see for himself.

Asahi reaches out halfway to the ghost, but stops himself. His hand is shaking, so he lets it drop. “A-another time?” Just the thought of his hand cutting right through Nishinoya’s is enough to make him feel sick.

The ghost puts his hands behind his head, and cracks his neck. “Whatever! You were the one who wanted to know.”

Asahi hums in response. “Do you need to eat? Sleep? …Other things?”

“Naaaaah. I can eat and shit if I make myself, but I don’t have to. Sleep’s impossible, but limbo makes up for that waste of time.” He looks up at the ceiling for a moment. “Food… sure could use a soda popsicle. Haven’t had one of those since I died. I don’t understand why no one keeps their freezers packed with them!” He pouts, his cheeks puffing out, and crosses his arms.

That’s right. He couldn’t leave the house, so unless someone brought one home, and he was able to steal it, he would never have access to one again. “I could… get you one.”

Nishinoya’s eyes go wide, and he gets all up in Asahi’s face. “Would you really, Asahi-san?!? That would be amazing!!!”

Asahi flinches, pulling away from the ghost and hitting his head on the wall behind him. He doesn’t relax until Nishinoya sits back again.

“Ahaha, sorry! You just don’t understand what I’d do for another one of those. I’d do anything!”

Asahi takes a couple of deep breaths, calming himself down. Nothing to be worked up about. “Like… like what?”

“Jeez, I dunno! Anything! Name anything!”

He taps his chin in thought. It did not seem like there was much that a ghost could offer him. “You could… promise not to haunt me anymore.”

“Done!”

Asahi stares blankly back. So he had been planning on continuing to mess with him?

“Well, that settles it! You get me a soda popsicle, and I won’t mess with you ever again!”

“I don’t… know when I will have time… but I will get you one.”

“Great!! No rush! I have all the time in the world!”

Asahi couldn’t understand how this kid could be so cheerful. He was dead, of all things. Shouldn’t ghosts be a least a little moody?

“Asahi-san, you’re talking to yourself! I’m right here, you know!”

He coughs, as if trying to cover up the words that he had already spoken. “S-sorry! That was impolite of me to say!”

“Don’t worry about it! I _told_ you that nothing you ask me will offend me!” Another pause, as if to say ‘except for _something_.’ “Getting all depressed would be so boring. Might as well make the best of a bad situation, y’know? When life gives you lemons, make lemonade!”

They talk for a while longer. Well, Nishinoya talks for a while, while Asahi listens. Stories about the previous residents of the house, and all the great pranks that he had pulled on them. Some made Asahi very, very glad that he was not in their shoes.

Sooner than later, the front door slams, audible from the bedroom. “I’m home, Asahi!” his mother calls.

Asahi motions with his hands, silently shooing Nishinoya away.

The ghost sticks out his tongue and waves a soundless goodbye, before disappearing in that unsettling way that he always does.

Asahi questions the warm and pleasant feeling radiating inside of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pretend that gari-gari kun popsicles weren't invented in 1980...


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i missed updating yesterday! i felt a little sick and couldn't concentrate on my laptop screen...

Asahi calls Nishinoya back the next week, soda popsicle purchased and in hand. He does the same thing the following week. And the next. Every week becomes every few days becomes every other day, always supplying the sugary gift.

“You don’t… have to leave, if you don’t want to,” Asahi mumbles one day when his parents are due to come home soon, “as long as you… don’t try to do anything to me or do something that could alert my parents –”

“Relax, Asahi-san! I already promised that I wouldn’t mess with you anymore! I know how to keep myself busy over here.”

They talk about everything and nothing – what memories Nishinoya still held on to of his living years, what Asahi got up to when he wasn’t at home or when Nishinoya wasn’t around. They share their hobbies, Asahi’s plans for the future, what Nishinoya had wished he had done when he was still alive. 

They discuss volleyball, the one thing they had in common above anything else.

“I’m, uh, a wing spiker. And…”

“And?” the ghost says around his popsicle, sucking on it so that it doesn’t drip onto Asahi’s bed.

“And… I am the ace, I suppose.”

“Whoaaaaa, really? That’s so cool, Asahi-san! I never would have guessed!”

Asahi gives an embarrassed chuckle, scratching the back of his neck. “I don’t entirely feel like one, but they insist…”

“I’m sure you’re great! I wish I could see you on the court.” He slurps the sugary treat. “I was a libero. There wasn’t a spike that I couldn’t receive! Especially with my _Rolling Thunder_!” He shouts the last two words, as if he were a super hero, calling out his signature move.

“Ah, what is Rolling Thunder?”

“Oh, I would have to show you for you to understand, Asahi-san. And this house really just isn’t big enough to handle it! We would have to go to one of the school courts…” Nishinoya frowns. “Too bad I didn’t die at school! Although I can’t imagine the place still exists anymore.”

“What school did you go to?”

“Karasuno. Is it still around?”

“I… go to Karasuno. …wait. You were a high school student??” Nishinoya could have been an elementary school student, if it wasn’t for the look of his uniform.

“…Asahi-san… how old did you think I was?” Nishinoya suddenly speaks in a slow monotone, his eyes fixed in a glare, staring right into Asahi’s soul. Had he hit a nerve?

“Ah, oh, I don’t know… twelve, maybe? Thirteen…?” The ghost’s glower became more and more menacing after each of Asahi’s words. Why he didn’t shut his mouth sooner, he would never know. “F-fourteen???”

The ghost boy huffs and begins to fade.

“W-wait!” Asahi leans forward and reaches out to grab Nishinoya, to stop him from leaving, but his hand goes right through his transparent shoulder. Asahi feels a shock of burning heat and freezing cold at the same time, but his instincts don’t kick in and he doesn’t pull his hand away. Instead, he stares at his arm and the way his hand is still visible from within Nishinoya’s chest.

Nishinoya comes back to reality, as opaque as his ghostly form could be. The features of his face soften. “Asahi-san–” his voice catches when he realizes that Asahi is trembling, frozen in place, his breath quick and labored. “Asahi, snap out of it!” He scoots back until Asahi’s hand is no longer inside of him.

Asahi’s hand drops onto the bed, no longer a painful burn of conflicting temperatures. Despite this, he still continues to stare at the spot where his hand was. The action did nothing to relieve him of his anxiety attack, his body still wracked with panicked sucks of air.

Nishinoya suddenly gets a (probably) brilliant idea. He forgets his popsicle on the bed and shuffles until he can get a hold of the bedsheets that he is sitting on, pulling up a considerable amount and ruining how well-made it was. He loosely wraps his hands and arms with the sheet, up to his shoulders, and scoots close to Asahi. Very gently, he puts a sheet-covered hand onto Asahi’s shoulder, his body acting solid for the first time in decades. 

The other boy flinches at the contact until he realizes that there is no burning feeling, and that the presence on his shoulder is very clearly solid.

Nishinoya rubs hesitant, gentle circles onto Asahi’s back. “It’s ok, Asahi-san. Just take deep breaths. You’re ok. I can leave if you want me to, though.”

“N-no–” he croaks, trying to calm his labored breathing. “I-I’m… I’m okay. S-sorry.” He fists the sheets, trying to still his shaking hands.

The ghost continues rubbing his circles, hoping that he is being comforting.

It doesn’t take Asahi long to calm down, but once he does, he immediately jolts when he realizes that Nishinoya is really touching him, his hand firm on his shoulder. “How…” He places a cautious hand over the sheet, feeling the slim wrist within it. It doesn’t seem to give off body heat, or have anything to signify that it belonged to a living human.

That was hardly surprising. Nishinoya wasn’t living, after all.

“Seems kinda silly, huh? Looks like I can touch living things as long as there’s something that isn’t living in between! Can’t believe I didn’t figure that out sooner.”

Asahi nods, not really listening. He brings Nishinoya’s hand off of his shoulder and in front of him so that he can look at it. He turns it over in his hands and traces the small digits, the creases in his palm, hidden by the bedsheet.

“Asahi-san…” He looks up, and realizes there’s a slight red tinge to Nishinoya’s cheeks. 

Asahi’s face does the same tenfold. He drops the hand and raises both of his own in mortification. “S-sorry, Nishinoya! I don’t know what I was thinking… that was out of line. Please forgive me!” He bows his head and stares at the sheets that the ghost hadn’t disturbed.

Nishinoya laughs, loud enough to cover up the embarrassment leaking out of his voice. He pats Asahi on the head, grinning. “Of course I forgive you, dummy! It’s only natural that you act a little weird after panicking like that. Nothing wrong with that at all!”

Asahi turns his head up again, pink fading but still coloring his cheeks. “I-it won’t happen again…”

“Asahi-san. It’s okay if it happens again.”

“W-what are you saying?” Did Nishinoya mean that… he wanted it to happen again? The thought makes him turn the color of a tomato all over again.

“I-I mean if you start panicking again! And need to feel up my hand to calm down or whatever! What else could I mean??” The flush in Nishinoya’s cheeks spread to the tips of his ears.

Asahi looks like that of a startled rabbit or young deer, ready to leap out of bed and eject himself from this conversation before anything else inappropriate bubbles from his lips. He eyes his bedroom door desperately.

“Asahi-san, chill out! It was just a joke! Stop worrying so much. We can talk about something else if joking around makes you this nervous, jeez.” Nishinoya rolls his eyes, and adjusts the sheets on his arms. It was strange that the sheet didn’t become as translucent as his skin, like the clothes that he died in did.

It’s quiet for a few minutes, aside from the slurping noises coming from Nishinoya when he finds his discarded popsicle. Asahi would have to change his sheets before his mother found the sugar stain. Finally, his thoughts quiet down enough for him to speak. “Don’t… go walking around with my sheet while my parents are home…”

“Can’t I at least do it on Halloween? It would make the perfect Halloween costume!”

The conversation once again turns lighthearted, and the little disturbance is assumed to be forgotten. Unfortunately, neither of them can get the thought of each other’s fingers touching, skin almost on skin, out of their heads.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also, uh, pretend the libero position wasn’t introduced until 1998… who knows what other anachronisms i could be missing!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am SO sorry for neglecting to post for so long! school is seriously kicking my ass. i still haven't had enough time to write any more plot intensive chapters, so i hope this is enough to hold you guys over!!
> 
> also, i really appreciate all the comments, even though i keep forgetting to reply to them! they really give me a lot of confidence. :)

Perhaps it was not the best thing for Nishinoya to discover that he could physically touch Asahi. It was quickly realized that the ghost was an extremely touchy-feely person.

He always manages to swipe Asahi’s bedsheet and mess it up right after he makes the bed. At some point he gives up and leaves an extra sheet out for him. His mother would get so angry when she would come to constantly find Asahi’s bed unmade, and Nishinoya would not relent on taking his sheets.

“It’s a safety measure!” he would protest, pulling the fabric tightly around his small figure. “What if we accidentally touched again? Wouldn’t want you to get all freaked out.”

They had managed not to come into contact with each other for a very, very long time. Really, the chances of it happening again _should_ be slim-to-none. The problem was that Nishinoya was using absolutely every chance that he got to touch Asahi in some way or another.

“Nishinoya, please!” Asahi yelps as his vision is suddenly obstructed, a sheet thrown over his head. Only seconds later does a large weight slam into his back, the feeling of arms wrapping around his neck and legs around his waist making it apparent that the ghost thought that now was the perfect time for a piggy back ride. He stumbles, trying to keep upright after the force of Nishinoya’s body unbalanced him. “I can’t see anything!”

“That’s fine, Asahi-san! I can be your eyes! I can lead us to victory!” Arms pull tighter around his neck, and Asahi makes a choking sound. Nishinoya gets the message and loosens his grip, but only barely. His feet dig into Asahi’s sides, trying to find purchase.

“A-ah, Noya, that hurts-“ Attempting to move his arms would surely result in accidentally touching the ghost, so Asahi is forced to stay still until Nishinoya gets comfortable. He doesn’t completely mind it – he’s used to his teammates punching his shoulder enough that a little physical pain was not a big deal – but he sure was not used to it. Shoulder pats and fist bumps, yes. Being climbed on all over constantly? Not nearly so much.

Nishinoya grins against his neck before letting himself back down to the floor. “Asahi-san,” he sings, spinning him around and pulling away the sheet, “You finally called me Noya, like I asked you to!”

Asahi blinks, a little dazed from being spun around. It takes him a moment to process his words. “Ah, did I? Sor-“

“What are you apologizing for, dummy? I asked you to call me that.”

“R-right.” He scratches the back of his neck and gives a nervous grin. “Uh, if you could ask next time before you jump on me-“

“Nope! It’s more fun to surprise you!” Nishinoya laughs, eyes closed and hands on his hips.

Asahi pouts back, his hands spread and gesturing as he speaks. “But what if I’m doing something, or holding something, and you catch me off guard? I could be handling scissors, or a knife… someone could get hurt!”

“But only you would get hurt!”

“That doesn’t make me feel much better…”

Once Asahi finally convinces Nishinoya to settle down, they sit together at the kotatsu in the living room. Rain hits erratically against the window, causing Asahi to flinch every few seconds. Nishinoya has his legs wrapped in his sheet, and he nudges at Asahi’s foot as they make conversation.

“You’re going to be graduating soon, right? Where do you want to go for college?”

“Oh, I don’t think that I’m smart enough for something like that…”

“But do you want to?”

Asahi shrugs his broad shoulders. “I don’t know what I want to do.”

“Well, you better decide quick! You’re running out of time!”

“Yes, I am aware… teachers are always telling me that I need to make a decision, but what if I choose something and regret it? What if I never find anything that I really want to do?”

Nishinoya rubs his foot against Asahi’s in an attempt to calm him down. “I know you’ll find something! Hmm… what kinda stuff do you like to do? What haven’t you done that you wanna do?”

“Nothing especially… I enjoy reading and writing, I suppose, but that hardly makes for a practical profession… I would also like to travel, but that is something that you do _after_ you are making money at a nice job.”

“Writing, huh? How come I haven’t seen any stories of yours?”

“I mainly… write poetry. It’s too embarrassing to show anyone, though…”

“Come on, Asahi-san! I bet it’s great! Show me!”

“Maybe… another time? Just not now.”

Nishinoya puffs out his cheeks, but doesn’t argue. Forcing Asahi to show him his private writing would probably make his head explode.

Asahi decides to change the subject. “What did… you want to do?” He hated asking Nishinoya about his past. It seemed cruel to bring up such old memories, even if the ghost swore that they were so old that they were no longer painful.

“I sucked at school! The only way I was gonna go to college was if I was given a recruitment offer for volleyball. Which, and I don’t mean to toot my own horn, was actually pretty likely! I was a kickass player, and I bet that all the best schools would have fought over me!” He smirks, nodding to himself. “Yeah. Me and Ryuu were going to keep playing volleyball together until they forced us to retire!”

“Who… is Ryuu?” 

“Oh.” Nishinoya blinks, and Asahi could swear that he almost looked uncomfortable. Perhaps he crossed another line again.

Asahi cuts him off before he has a chance to explain. “Sorry, sorry! I am being too invasive! We don’t need to talk about this!”

“No… it’s fine.” Nishinoya’s tone goes solemn, something Asahi doubts that he had ever heard his voice do, and looks down at his lap. “He was just my best friend, that’s all.” He takes one look at Asahi’s concerned expression, and all the excitement returns to his voice. “Tanaka Ryuunosuke! That bastard was definitely on his way to being our ace. Man, I miss that guy. I hope he’s as famous as he said we would be!” 

The last thing Asahi wants to say is that he didn’t recognize the name. He didn’t keep up with volleyball outside of high school teams, though, so there was a chance that this Tanaka could have achieved his goal.

Nishinoya goes on to talk all about Tanaka: their mutual obsession with their volleyball manager, among other girls at school, how they were classmates in their first year but had to be separated for making so many disruptions during class, the scary faces he always made to strike fear into their opponents.

“Kinda like the faces you make, only they’re intentional!”

“W-what kind of faces am I making? This is just my face!”

Through all the conversation, neither of them notice that both of their feet are touching each other’s from under the table, toes pressing against each other, until Asahi suddenly gasps and kicks one of his legs.

“What, you don’t like playing footsie with me?” Nishinoya laughs, drawing his legs up to his chest.

Asahi turns pink and splutters, causing Nishinoya to cackle even more loudly.

“Kidding, kidding! Man, I keep forgetting that you don’t know how to take a joke!”

“You don’t make very good jokes, Nishinoya.”

“Hey, you can’t go back to calling me Nishinoya now! That would be like me suddenly calling you Azumane-san.”

“It is completely different.”

“Nuh uh! Call me Noya from now on, or else!”

“Or else what…” Asahi sighs, asking the inevitable question.

“You don’t want to know!” Nishinoya’s grin is devilish. Asahi’s frown is exasperated.

“Fine…”

“So say it.”

“E-eh?”

“Say it! Say my name!”

“I c-can’t just say it when you prompt me like this,” Asahi stutters out. He shifts in his seat, uncomfortably embarrassed.

“Sure you can! Say it!”

“Fine…” He reaches up to play with a hair that had fallen out of his tight bun. His eyes wander around the room for a moment, before he forces himself to make eye contact with the other boy. “N… Noya.”

The smile that he receives is bright enough to push away the stormy clouds outside and light up the sky.


End file.
